


Your Song

by belovedplank



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Get Together, M/M, Singing, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedplank/pseuds/belovedplank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron loves music</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Song

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: these characters are not mine, if they were, they would be together in canon! The song is also not mine, belongs to The Carpenters.  
> NB: I KNOW the Harry Potter of book canon doesn’t have blue eyes, but since that is the line in the song, I request you pretend, just for the sake of my sanity please!

The Weasley family was used to noise; there were too many of them for the Burrow to be quiet for long – especially once the twins came along. However, apart from the wireless, the ‘noise’ had rarely been due to music. Nevertheless, even as a child, Ron had expressed a passion for music, and Arthur, muggle-lover that he was, discovered a squib in the nearby village, who offered to teach their youngest son to play piano. Never had they seen the boy as happy as he was when he returned from his lessons, and eventually they managed to procure a piano for the Burrow; the only muggle thing Molly had ever knowingly allowed into the house, and the only muggle thing Arthur restrained himself from tampering with!

 

It became a fact of life for the Weasley’s, Ron and his piano, for rarely did a day pass when he did not practice. But the only time Ron would ever willingly perform was for the family at Christmas, so they could all sing carols.

 

Ron had been so worried when he received his Hogwarts letter; in spite of his excitement, for he doubted there would be a piano for him to practice on there. Molly Weasley was far from blind, and could see that something was bothering her baby boy. The day they were due to go to Diagon Alley to purchase Ron’s first ever school uniform, she finally managed to find out what his worries were. She immediately sent an owl to the school explaining the circumstances. She received a swift response from Dumbledore himself; who expressed delight that one of his students played such an instrument, and promised that a piano would be placed in a disused classroom strictly for Ron’s own personal use.

 

It had been Ron’s decision to keep his gift a secret at school; he got teased enough by Fred and George without giving other people reason to tease him! After being caught merely a few days into his first term by his house head, sneaking to his piano in the middle of the night, Dumbledore realised that the staff would all need to be informed that Ron had his permission to do so. So, every now and then, Ron would slope off for a bit, but the fact that he always seemed so much happier when he returned meant that Harry and Hermionie let it slide. The Gryffindors soon got used to their youngest male Weasley randomly disappearing for short periods, or the sight of him with a hardback black notebook (yes, a notebook, rather than parchment,) and a pencil, scribbling away.

 

On one occasion, Ron had actually left the notebook in the dorm room, right in the middle of the bed, for anyone to see. Seamus was the only boy daring enough to give into his curiosity and open the book, wanting to find out what was so important to Ron. However, all he could see was blank pages; left side lined, the right, set out in the form of sheet music. Before Seamus could say or do anything, however, Ron returned to the dorm, showing that he had a temper to equal his hair colour, punching Seamus right in the face!

 

Grabbing his book from the floor, Ron growled at the Irish lad sprawled in front of him; “That’ll teach you to stay out of other people’s private business!” before storming back off to his piano.  For you see, that notebook contained Ron’s music – songs he had written himself. Now, he had always been private about this music, but as he had grown, gone through his first crush and whatnot, it became all the more important that no-one ever read them. It became like a diary for him, containing his innermost thoughts and feelings; especially those concerning his dark-haired, *male* best friend, Harry Potter.

 

He had never really been inspired to write, on occasion he came up with a few bits and pieces of tune that he thought were okay, but never really a whole song. However, over the course of the school year, Ron had been getting random bursts of inspiration, which he was finally managing to collate into song; a song which revolved entirely around his best friend.

 

It was only the second day of term, and they were walking down to the lake, just him and Harry, when Hedwig randomly appeared and perched herself on Harry’s shoulder. As Ron watched this, the music just came into his head, clear as day; _Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near? Just like me, they long to be, close to you._

A few weeks later, the class were all lying outside, staring at the stars as the Astronomy teacher droned on. Ron was practically asleep when Harry nudged him. “Look, a shooting star. Make a wish.”

As Ron stared at the moving ray of light, the music came to him again; _Why do stars fall down from the sky, every time you walk by? Just like me, they long to be, close to you._

 

It was Ron’s birthday, and the Gryffindor’s had managed to persuade the house elves (or rather, Harry had asked Dobby) to make him a cake. As Ron sat in the candle-light, ready to make his wish, his eyes met the wistful gaze of his best friend. For the umpteenth time, Ron wished that Harry’s birthday was during term-time, so that he could spend it with people that cared about him. And as he closed his eyes and blew out his candles, he wished. He wished for Harry, and as he did the music came; <i> _On the day that you were born the angels got together, and decided to create a dream come true. </i>_

 

One afternoon, the Golden Trio were sitting at the lake, watching the sunset; a rare spate of quietness and stillness for the three teens. As Ron looked over at Harry, he watched the light from the setting sun hit him in such a way as to add golden highlights to his dark locks, and make his eyes sparkle. As his heart softened at the sight, he was unsurprised when he heard the music; _So they sprinkled moondust in your hair, and golden starlight in your eyes of blue!_

 

The practically inseparable Gryffindor Three were walking around Hogsmede when Ron realised that they were being followed; by a group of Harry-obsessed, first time out third year girls. Far from being jealous, Ron couldn’t help but find it amusing.

_That is why all the girls in town, follow you all around. Just like me, they long to be, close to you._

Unknowingly whistling the tune that had just entered his head, Ron’s ears reddened when Harry asked what and why he was whistling. Ron was quick to tease his friend about his fan club, taking the focus off himself.

 

 

After each of these instances of inspiration, it would not be long before you would find Ron frantically scribbling away in his notebook, to preserve the music while it remained in his head.

 

But he saw his best friend not only as the ultimate unattainable thing; being both the famous Boy Who Lived, and being male, but also in the fact that he was too important to Ron. Harry must always remain oblivious to Ron’s feelings, or else Ron would run the risk of losing him completely. Ron knew this, which was why he was so private about the notebook; the only person other than himself that he had confided in was Remus Lupin. When they discovered who created the Maurders Map, he went to Professor Lupin for advice on how to protect his notebook. This meant that he had to tell Remus what the book actually *was*; although he managed to keep from blurting out exactly *who* he wrote about.

 

With a sigh, Ron spun round on the stool and away from the piano. His stomach was telling him it was dinnertime, and Ron knew he would have to face his classmates, and apologise to Seamus. As his stomach growled again, he finally moved to the door, closing it carefully behind himself, and he started somewhat trepidatiously in the direction of the Great Hall.

 

Taking a deep breath as he reached the doors, Ron straightened his shoulders and walked into the hall with his head held high. Walking straight over to Seamus, Ron waited until he had his attention. “Look Seamus, I’m sorry about earlier. With brother’s like mine, you learn to guard what little privacy you can get, but I shouldn’t have punched you.”

 

Seamus grinned up at the much taller boy, and, equally apologetically replied; “It’s alright mate, and I’m sorry I was such a nosy sod.”

 

Ron smiled back and held out his had, which Seamus took immediately, and shook enthusiastically. Seamus opened his mouth to speak as they let their hands drop, only to be interrupted; by Ron’s stomach!

 

His cheeky Irish smile widening, Seamus gestured to the people around him to move back; with a cutting remark concerning the volume of the grumbles coming from Ron’s belly.

Chuckling, Ron dropped into the space provided for him and quickly started to pile food onto his plate. After several mouthfuls, he eventually looked up from his plate to the inquiring gaze of his best friend. He nodded, and smiled at him, before returning his attention to his food.

 

Harry had been worried about his tall red-headed friend since his reaction earlier. Harry knew that Ron had a temper, but had been surprised at the extreme reaction to what Seamus had done; especially since he had not actually found anything to read in the book! That made Harry think that Ron had spelled the book somehow, and only made Harry more curious. But his best friend’s feelings were more important than any curiosity Harry felt, so Harry had sat in the Great Hall and waited for him, knowing that even as angry as Ron had appeared, he would not miss dinner.

As soon as he had seen him, he felt as if a weight had lifted, and although he knew that Ron was not 100%, his affirmation that he was okay was good enough for Harry, who pushed aside his long empty plate and left.

 

That night, Harry awoke with a start. There seemed to be nothing that had actually woken him up; no noise, and for a change, no nightmare, but Harry did not seem able to go back to sleep. Turning onto his right side, he glanced over at the bed of his best friend, and realised something. Although the curtains were partially closed over, he could not hear anything; no snoring, the sounds of haphazard kicking, none of the random noises he had gotten so used to hearing from Ron. Sitting up, Harry grabbed his glasses from the bedside cabinet before creeping out of bed and peeking through the curtains. Just as he thought - no Ron.

That was it for Harry. Ron had been sneaking off on odd occasions for as long as Harry had known him, but he had never sneaked out at night as much as he had this year. Harry was fed up with not knowing what was wrong with his best friend; he was worried about him, and wanted to help!

Creeping quietly over to his chest, he opened it and took out the Marauders Map and his invisibility cloak, before grabbing his slippers and creeping out of the dorm.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he opened the Map, tapped it with his wand and whispered; “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

It took a while to find Ron; in an unused classroom in a rarely used wing of the school. All the more curious, Harry wrapped himself up in his cloak before leaving the common room and setting off.

 

It was only thanks to the Map that Harry had managed to avoid Filch, and Harry wondered how Ron had managed not to get caught. However, as Harry finally reached the corridor where Ron’s classroom was, he forgot all about that. Ron had not closed the door completely, and Harry could hear music. Quietly making his way down the corridor, Harry turned his focus to the sound. As he got closer, he realised that it wasn’t just music, it was Ron; Ron singing. Now, you couldn’t say Ron had a fantastic singing voice, but he wasn’t bad either; he stayed in tune at least – which was more than Harry could do! But Harry could not help but shiver at the sound; he had always thought Ron had a lovely speaking voice; warm and welcoming, but singing, well, Harry wasn’t quite sure how it made him feel, but knew it was a good feeling.

Finally reaching the classroom, Harry peeked through the partially open door and had to suppress a gasp. For not only was Ron singing, he was also playing the piano! And beautifully, from what Harry’s admittedly untrained ear could tell. Harry shivered once again as he watched long, pale fingers trail over the ivory keys, as the baritone voice of his best friend whispered out the ballad.

 

Finally breaking himself out of his reverie of staring at his best friend, he decided to focus on the song; just in time for Ron to stop, with a slam of his hand on the keys. Harry could not suppress his smile at that; typical Ron. Harry watched him stare into space for a bit, before grabbing his ever-present notebook off the music stand on the piano and scribbling frantically. He bopped out a few notes on the piano before nodding and replacing the book. 

 Watching Ron crack his knuckles before starting again, Harry quickly became entranced as he realised that this was not just Ron playing a piece of music, Ron was playing *his* music, a song he had written himself. Harry decided to focus on the lyrics, hoping that they may help him work out what was wrong with his ‘Wheezy’.

 

 

_Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near? Just like me, they long to be, close to you._

_Why do stars fall down from the sky, every time you walk by? Just like me, they long to be, close to you._

_On the day that you were born the angels got together, and decided to create a dream come true._ __

As Harry realised that it was a love song, he fought to suppress a sigh, but wondered what could be wrong with his friend, doubting his love life was the issue, because Ron had always told him about the girls he fancied…..although Harry realised that Ron hadn’t actually mentioned anyone at all this year. Harry felt hurt that Ron did not seem able to confide in him, but knew that he was more hurt by the fact that Ron felt so deeply for someone who was not him, would never be him.

 

_So they sprinkled moondust in your hair, and golden starlight in your eyes a blue!_ __

Harry blinked. Until that line, he had assumed that the person Ron was singing about was Hermionie, but she had brown eyes. Harry started to go through all the girls in his year in his head, trying to pick out the blue-eyed ones; nearly missing the next line of the song as his concentration shifted.

 

_That is why all the girls in town, follow you all around. Just like me, they long to be, close to you._ __

Now it was that line that stopped Harry’s train of thought entirely. Girls? **Girls?!** But that would mean….that would mean that the person Ron was singing about was…a guy! As Ron plucked out the instrumental, Harry took the time to gather his thoughts.

//So, Ron’s singing about a guy. He’s written a love song….about a guy. Blue eyes…..who the heck *is* it?!//

 

From the earlier lines, Harry had deduced that it was someone Ron saw quite a lot of, someone he knows pretty well; if not a fellow Gryffindor, at least someone in their year. Now he knew it was not a *girl*, the most obvious place to start was their own dormmates…..

//Dean? His eyes are practically black! Neville’s are brown…Seamus?// Harry actually had to think about that. //Nah, Shay’s eyes are as green as his heritage demands. It’s *Ron* whose the blue-eyed boy in our dorm, well apart from…..//

Harry had to throw both hands over his mouth to stop an audible gasp from escaping.

‘Me?’ Harry mouthed, flabbergasted.

 

Harry had loved Ron practically from the moment they had met; he was the first friend that Harry had ever had, and his devotion to him had only grown as the years passed. The moment Ron had stood before him in the Shrieking Shack, telling a man they thought was a murderer that if he wanted to kill Harry, he’d have to kill Ron first, that was the moment Harry finally accepted that he was in love with his male best friend. But Harry had lived most of his life not knowing love of any kind, the Dursley’s had made him feel that it was something he did not deserve, so Harry had never expected his feelings to be returned, just happy to have Ron as his best friend.

But this….the song grabbed the substantially large part of his heart that was devoted to Ron and filled it with hope, hope that maybe, just maybe, his feelings were returned.

 

And it was that hope which gave Harry the courage to creep into the room, and take off his Invisibility Cloak, standing silently in the doorway, watching Ron play.

 

_Just like me, they long to be…..Close To You_ __

 

As the last notes faded away, Harry clapped softly; “That was beautiful, Ron.”

 

Spinning round on the piano stool, the red-headed boy paled at the realisation that he had been found out, not registering what Harry had said.

 

“H-h-harry! I was just…” grabbing his notebook, he clutched it to his chest, as if afraid Harry was about to snatch it from him.

 

“I never knew you could play, Ron. I have to admit I’m surprised. Isn’t a piano a Muggle instrument?” Harry asked quietly as he slowly made his way further into the room, attempting to calm Ron down.

 

Ron did calm down as he explained to Harry just how it had come about, and how long he had been playing for. Sitting on a table just to the left of the piano, Harry swung his legs like a child as he said, “Well, I think you play wonderfully, although I admit I don’t know much about music. How come you keep it such a secret?”

 

Ron could feel the blush that spread across his face and neck at the compliment, but nevertheless smiled at Harry in thanks as he replied, “I dunno. I mean, you’re right, it is a Muggle thing; Mum had to write to Dumbledore and explain before I started – I was really worried about coming to Hogwarts at first, because I didn’t think there would be a piano for me to practice on. I guess I was afraid of what people would think. Fred and George’s teasing about it was more than enough.”

 

Harry chuckled slightly at the thought of an 11 year old Ron panicking about school because of a piano, and nodded in agreement about Fred and George.

“But it’s a pity to hide such a gift, Ron; and you’re not a bad singer either! That song…did you write it yourself?”

 

Ron could feel his entire face and neck burning, even his ears, and he just looked at his feet.

 

Seeing his friend’s embarrassment, Harry plucked up all his Gryffindor courage, and jumped off the table to stand before his best friend. Staring at him intently, Harry waited until Ron had lifted his head before he looked straight into his eyes and asked, “Ron, that song you were playing. Was it….was it about me?”

 

Holding his breath, eyes full of hope, Harry watched the redhead in front of him intently. Ron went from red-faced with embarrassment, to deathly pale with the shame of being found out. Dropping his book, Ron wrapped his arms around himself and seemed to be trying to make himself smaller. Unable to meet Harry’s gaze, Ron whispered an apology as he sunk to the floor.

 

Harry thought that he was ready for Ron’s reaction, but watching him practically collapse was the last thing he had expected! Quickly following him down, Harry crouched before him and placed a hand on his arm. Initially hurt when Ron flinched away from him, Harry realised that his best friend was shaking with fear; the same fear that had stopped Harry from telling Ron how he felt about him.

Placing a hand on each of Ron’s shoulders, Harry said, “I don’t want you to be sorry, Ron.”

 

Ron stopped whispering repeated apologies and froze for a moment, before slowly meeting Harry’s eyes, his face as easy for Harry to read as always. Smiling softly in response to the hope he could see in Ron’s eyes, one hand moved from Ron’s shoulder to caress his cheek, as Harry whispered; “I want you to mean it. I *need* you to mean it.”

 

Looking into the hopeful gaze of his brunette friend, Ron could finally see the emotions he had always longed to see, and taking his own share of Gryffindor courage, Ron nodded. “I meant it. And yes, it was you. It’s always you.”

 

Harry leaned forward so their foreheads were touching, and looking directly into Ron’s pale blue eyes at such close quarters, Harry smiled softly and whispered; “No one has ever been closer to me than you Ron. And that’s the way I like it.”

 

As Ron smiled back, it was impossible to work out who moved forward first, as their lips finally met.

 


End file.
